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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27362110">Professor Potter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/floydig/pseuds/floydig'>floydig</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Professor Malfoy [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Guest Professor Harry Potter, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter Raises Teddy Lupin, Husbands, Love, M/M, Married Couple, Nonverbal Magic, Patronus Charm (Harry Potter), Powerful Harry Potter, Professor Draco Malfoy, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Wandless Magic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:10:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,312</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27362110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/floydig/pseuds/floydig</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Harry Potter seems so <em> amazing, dignified, </em> and <em> inspiring.</em> I <em>can’t wait</em> to see what he’s going to teach us.”</p><p>Teddy snorts, “Oh yeah. My dad’s <em>real</em> fucking dignified.”</p><p>“I figured. He’s married to <em>Professor Malfoy,</em> after all.”<br/><br/><br/>Draco nods as he swallows a bite of potato, “And you did your Patronus for the students at the end of the lesson?”</p><p>Harry laughs, “I’m really that predictable, aren’t I?”</p><p>Draco smirks and brushes a soft, slender hand over Harry’s bicep, “Just a bit.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Professor Malfoy [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998388</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1142</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Professor Potter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The sequel to “Professor Malfoy!” Can be read stand alone or as part of the series. I had some fun with this one!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This is it.</p><p>The day they’ve all been waiting for.</p><p><em>Harry Potter</em> is going to be giving his first guest-lecture of the school year.</p><p>The Hufflepuff and Slytherin fifth years squirm in their seats. They look around at one another, eyes wide with anticipation. This is probably the only 9 AM class that they’ll ever look forward to.</p><p>Teddy Lupin has his feet propped up on his desk as he yawns. His lips turn up in a half-smirk as he looks around the class, “I don’t know why you all are so fucking excited. My dad isn’t that cool, honestly.”</p><p>His amber eyes shine with amusement as he carelessly tosses his hot pink hair out of his face.</p><p>Jessica groans and turns around, “Alright, Teddy, but he’s your <em>dad</em>. It doesn’t count.”</p><p>Frankie Owens chimes in with a dreamy look in her eyes, “We’ve heard so much about him; he just seems so <em>amazing</em>, <em>dignified</em>, and <em>inspiring</em>.”</p><p>Teddy snorts as he remembers the scene he witnessed last month when he visited home for the weekend:</p>
<hr/><p>In his haste to greet Draco, who has been out shopping with Pansy in Paris all day, Dad grabs an extremely withered, tattered broom that’s propped up against the storage shed in the garden. He kicks off the ground.</p><p>It’s a <em>muggle</em> cleaning broom.</p><p>So, Dad does <em>not</em> zoom up into the air and to Draco as he intends.</p><p>Instead, he topples over and lands face first onto the stone walkway, legs and arms spread out like a starfish. The broom lies peacefully under his right leg. </p><p>Dad lifts his head up and groans, “Fuck.”</p><p>Teddy stifles a laugh. Yeah, real fucking <em>dignified</em> right there.</p><p>Draco strolls up the walkway and smartly stops in front of a disgruntled Dad, who’s still sprawled on the ground.</p><p>He looks down, lips tugging up at the corners, “Merlin, Harry. <em>Again</em>?”</p><p>Dad looks up at Draco, small grin spreading across his face, “Hi there.”</p><p>Draco smiles softly as he watches Dad in fond exasperation. He reaches a perfectly manicured, slender hand down, grabs onto Dad, and pulls him up onto his feet.</p><p>Once standing, Dad runs a rough, dirty, callused hand through his wild dark hair, still grinning as he looks an immaculately dressed Draco up and down.</p><p>Draco’s wearing a pair of snug, navy trousers that taper off at the ankle. He’s cinched his slender waist with a slim black belt and silver buckle. A navy button up linen shirt with thin vertical white and brown stripes is neatly tucked in. He’s rolled up the sleeves and left the first three buttons undone, exposing his forearms and part of his chest.</p><p>The faint smudge of a faded Dark Mark is visible as well; Draco no longer covers it up with a haphazard glamour as he once did.</p><p><em>My mistakes are my own, Ted. There’s no way to re-write the past. Though I’ve changed, I’ll never forget who I once was. </em>What<em> I once was. It was foolish and ignorant of me to pretend otherwise.</em></p><p>Draco finishes the look with white sneakers and a matching silver watch + necklace set. His thick white-blond hair is styled in that “effortlessly tousled” way. Teddy privately thinks that it probably took him at least an hour to get right. Hair spells never work quite as well as doing it the muggle way (Draco often complains of this to an amused Dad). </p><p>“Look at <em>you</em>,” Dad grins, taking Draco all in.</p><p><em>Merlin</em>.</p><p>Draco scoffs as a light flush appears on both cheeks, “Yes, well, <em>one</em> of us has to have some sort of fashion sense. Merlin knows it’s not you or Ted,” he sniffs indignantly but the slight upturn of his lips and warmth in his grey eyes give him away.</p><p>Dad simply laughs, “Oh fuck off, Malfoy. I happen to enjoy my minimalist style.”</p><p>Draco raises a perfectly arched eyebrow at Dad; he’s simply wearing a pair of ragged grey sweat-pant shorts that are cut off at the knee. His broad torso is entirely exposed, with many smudges of dirt from yard work and several small scrapes from the broom incident spread across it. He’s got two left-footed black rubber work boots on, and beads of sweat are dripping down his chest and forehead.</p><p>Draco tries—and fails— to control an affectionate smile that’s spreading, “I don’t think you know what ‘minimalist fashion’ is, Potter.”</p><p>Dad grins broadly, green eyes sparking with mischief, “Perhaps not. But I <em>do</em> know—”</p><p>He pauses to pull his unruly dark hair into a quick messy bun. Continues, smirking, “I think I need to <em>dirty you</em> <em>up</em> a bit.”</p><p>Draco’s eyes widen for a split second and he flushes even darker. Before he can respond, Dad engulfs him in a giant bear hug and lifts him up with ease.</p><p>As if on reflex, Draco wraps lean, long legs around Dad’s muscular waist and puts his arms around Dad’s neck.</p><p>Dad murmurs a rough, deep, “Like that, don’t you.”</p><p>It’s not a question.</p><p><em>Merlin</em>.</p><p>Draco gasps between breathless laughs and protests weakly, “H-Harry! Put me down, you disgusting—!”</p><p>Dad simply laughs harder and starts walking back to the house with Draco wrapped tightly around him, spluttering half-hearted insults. </p><p>The last thing Teddy hears is a low, “You can teach me all about minimalist fashion in the shower, <em>Professor</em>.”</p><p>See what Teddy has to put up with? Honestly.</p>
<hr/><p>Back to the current conversation at hand.</p><p>Teddy snorts, “Oh yeah. Dad’s <em>real</em> fucking dignified, Frankie.”</p><p>Frankie Owens smiles a smug, pleased little thing, “I figured. He’s married to <em>Professor Malfoy</em>, after all.”</p><p>Vicente Sanchez narrows his eyes at Teddy, “And why didn’t you ever <em>tell us</em> that they’re married?”</p><p>Teddy rolls his eyes, “What sort of tosser goes around talking about his bloody <em>parents</em> all the time? I don’t know much about any of <em>your</em> parents; you don’t randomly volunteer information about them. Why should I be any different just because my dad’s famous?”</p><p>Everyone is silent.</p><p>Teddy continues, “I thought it was pretty obvious too, considering how close I am to Draco.”</p><p>Jessica speaks up, “We-We just thought you were good friends or something.”</p><p>Vicente adds on, “Plus we’ve never read anything about it in the <em>Prophet</em>. Never seen any pictures of them or anything.”</p><p>Several others nod along and look at Teddy.</p><p>Teddy scoffs, “It’s the bloody <em>Prophet</em>. They’re a shit paper. They don’t give a fuck about the truth. Plus, Dad and Draco are private. They go out to places that aren’t well known, like hole-in-the-walls and all that. Oftentimes muggle. Or just to their friends’ houses. Dad gets mobbed otherwise.”</p><p>Teddy shakes his head and continues, “It’s not a bloody <em>secret</em>. And if any of you bother to read <em>The Quibbler,</em> Dad and Draco even do interviews with them a couple times a month. Just last week, they talked about their garden.”</p><p>“But that’s fucking <em>boring</em>.”</p><p>Teddy’s eyes flash, “Well, they’re not there to amuse you.”</p><p>Teddy sighs and softens his tone, “Look, they’re... happy. They’re <em>really</em> fuckin’ happy. And they deserve to be. I get that it’s interesting, but you’re not privy to every detail of their private lives just because my dad’s famous.”</p><p>More silence.</p><p>“Sorry, Teddy. We didn’t think of it like that.”</p><p>Other students affirm their agreement.</p><p>Teddy gives Jessica a small smile and chuckles, “It’s alright. I get that you’re excited. But seriously, I meant what I said: Dad’s really not that cool.”</p><p>Frankie looks at Teddy tentatively, “Do you... Do you know what he’s going to be teaching us today?”</p><p>The other students straighten up and watch Teddy eagerly.</p><p>Teddy rolls his eyes exasperatedly and lets out a full-bodied laugh at that, “No, he won’t fucking tell me! I tried to get it out of him, believe me, I did.”</p><p>The fifth years relax a bit as they all laugh.</p><p>“It’s been fifteen minutes; where <em>is</em> he?”</p><p>Teddy yawns again and smirks. He leans back further in his chair, and it teeters on the edge of tipping over, “Yeah he’s always fucking late.”</p><p>“Damn, that’s cool.”</p><p>“Not that cool, mate. <em>Merlin</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>As if on cue, the door bursts open, and in walks Harry Potter. Everyone (except Teddy) straightens up in their seats and turns to look at him.</p><p>Harry Potter casually moves up to the front of the room, grinning at everyone. He’s wearing baggy, ripped light-wash blue jeans, an old ratty pair of sneakers, and a soft looking maroon sweater with a giant yellow <em>H</em> on it. He’s got his wild dark hair in a low ponytail, a diamond stud in one ear, and a brown stain all across his denim-clad left thigh.</p><p>
  <em>So fucking cool.</em>
</p><p>He gets to the front of the room and leans on the desk.</p><p>His bright green eyes twinkle as they sweep across the room. A deep, rough, warm, “I’m not late are I?”</p><p>Some of the students frantically shake their heads, eyes wide “No, sir. Not at all, Professor.”</p><p>Harry Potter laughs a robust, rounded thing, “I’m fucking with you. I’m afraid I have to apologize.”</p><p>He gestures to the brown stain on his thigh, “We had a little accident at the home, today.”</p><p>He looks up and notices barely-disguised sick looks on many students’ faces, “Oh Merlin! Not like that.”</p><p>Harry Potter chuckles and continues, “For those of you who may not know, I run <em>Hedwig Heart and Home</em>, a group home for wizarding youth. We were making hot chocolate the muggle way and some of the little ones got a little excited with the mixing.”</p><p>He pauses, affection and warmth clear in his eyes, “They were so worried that they had burned me. It took a while to settle them down. I must’ve forgotten to scourgify the stain in all the commotion.”</p><p>The brown stain dissipates from the denim.</p><p>“The hot chocolate was lukewarm, after all. Can’t have small children drinking something too hot. Their tongues burn easily, you know. I know from personal experience at that age.”</p><p>Harry Potter pauses and his eyes darken for a split second before they lighten up again.</p><p>Many of the fifth years nod seriously, quills out and attentively taking notes.</p><p>Harry Potter clasps his hands together, “Anyway, before we get started, there’s a couple things I want to go over.”</p><p>The students pause their writing and look up.</p><p>“First, call me Harry. I’m really not a <em>professor</em>, just an average bloke that comes and teaches you lot on occasion.”</p><p>The fifth years look around at each other in disbelief.</p><p>Harry Potter— <em>Harry</em>— continues, “And if something I say or do makes you uncomfortable, please let me know. I believe in open, honest communication, and I would like each and every one of you to follow this policy when I’m teaching.”</p><p>He looks around the room, a bit more stern than before, “I’m serious about this, alright?”</p><p>Many students nod respectfully.</p><p>“Oh- and one last thing: ask me questions; it’s what I’m here for.”</p><p>The class straightens up eagerly.</p><p>Harry pauses and gives them a lopsided smile, “I should clarify; feel free to ask me questions on <em>course-related</em> material, <em>not</em> my private life. You’ll get to know me soon enough, don’t worry.”</p><p>Harry glances around the room, pleased to see that he has everyone’s attention, “Any questions before we get started?”</p><p>“What are you going to be teaching us, Prof-H-Harry?”</p><p>Harry’s eyes fill with anticipation and he smirks, “Now this is where it gets <em>fun</em>.”</p><p>...</p><p>“Alright everyone, remember to keep practicing your nonverbal defense magic over the next month, and I’ll see you then!”</p><p>Harry grins at the fifth years, who now have bags under their eyes and are slowly, unsteadily packing up.</p><p>“Is it always going to be this <em>draining</em>, Harry?”</p><p>Harry smiles reassuringly, voice kind, “It gets easier, don’t worry. This is your first time, so it’s naturally going to be very difficult. I’m actually pleased that you all are tired; it means you were intently focusing your magical core on the spells. And eventually you should be able to—”</p><p>He pauses and looks around the room, green eyes reflecting a hint of his mischievous streak that the students are beginning to know all too well.</p><p>Instead of finishing his thought, Harry moves to sit at his desk, reclining slightly. He closes his eyes peacefully, relaxed.</p><p>The fifth years look around at each other, bewildered. Teddy’s brows furrow as he watches his Dad.</p><p>An enormous stag Patronus appears beside Harry and finishes for him, “<em>You should be able to do something like this by the end of my lecture series in your 7th year.</em>”</p><p>Harry opens his eyes and smirks at the gaping, wide-eyed students.</p><p>Even Teddy’s got his eyebrows raised, “Merlin, Dad.”</p><p>Harry stands and walks around to the front of the desk, leaning against it, “But in all seriousness, <em>wandless</em> nonverbal defense magic, once mastered, can be a great asset for a wizard. Especially if the wizard in question can preform these spells when the attacker least expects it.”</p><p>Harry grins, “Something for you all to think about. Get some rest now. I’ll see you next month.”</p><p>
  <em>So fucking cool.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>“So how did your lecture go?I’m assuming well, given that my fifth years were about ready to drop into their cauldrons today. Not a good combination seeing as we were attempting to make Draught of Living Death. Key word: <em>attempting</em>.”</p><p>Draco’s lips curve up as he sets a rather enormous plate of chicken, potatoes, and assorted greens in front of Harry. He rubs a soft hand over Harry’s shoulder before sitting beside him at their dining table.</p><p>They’re both freshly showered and changed into cozy joggers, fuzzy socks, and soft t-shirts.</p><p>Harry smiles sheepishly, “I think the students enjoyed it. But they were <em>exhausted</em> afterwards. I told them that nonverbal defense magic gets easier with time.”</p><p>Draco nods as he swallows a bite of potato, “And you did your Patronus at the end?”</p><p>Harry laughs, “I’m really that predictable, aren’t I?”</p><p>Draco smirks and brushes a hand over Harry’s bicep, “Just a bit.”</p><p>Harry raises an eyebrow, amused, “Not in all areas, I hope,” His pupils darken and expand as he gives Draco a thorough once over.</p><p>A flush creeps up Draco’s long, smooth, pale neck and he rolls his eyes, “Oh fuck <em>off</em>, Potter. You already know. Don’t need any more affirmation from me. Merlin knows you’re big-headed enough as it is.”</p><p>Harry lets out a hardy, full-bodied laugh at that, “Last night was affirmation enough, thanks.”</p><p>Draco’s grey eyes narrow as he tries—and fails— to control the private smile spreading across his face, “Touché, Potter.”</p><p>Harry swallows a rather large bite of chicken and then chuckles, “It’s funny, you know.”</p><p>Draco raises an eyebrow inquisitively.</p><p>“My memory for my Patronus. It’s—”</p><p>He pauses, locking eyes with Draco, “It’s changed. I didn’t realize it until I cast it today.”</p><p>Draco half-smirks, “What, it’s not me anymore?”</p><p>He looks down at his plate briefly and back up at Harry once more.</p><p>Harry rolls his eyes and rubs Draco’s forearm. Gently.</p><p>“Of course it’s you, arsehole. It’s just...”</p><p>Harry trails off, brows furrowing, “I’m just trying to figure out how to explain it best.”</p><p>Draco scoffs but he smiles encouragingly, “Understandable. We can’t all be blessed with the knowledge of how to use words properly.”</p><p>Harry casts a nonverbal wandless <em>mild</em> stinging hex and smiles innocently when he’s met with:</p><p>“Ow! Fuck you, Harry.”</p><p>“Later.”</p><p>Draco huffs and laughs, “Un-fucking-believable, you.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry takes a breath and exhales, “Okay, I think I got it.”</p><p>He looks at Draco. <em>Really</em> looks at him, “My Patronus memory: it used to be a very specific one, you know? It was from eight years ago when I woke up at 2 AM to loud, obnoxious banging at the door. I opened it, and there you fucking were: sweatpants, t-shirt, hair damp with sweat, flushed. And your eyes, <em>Merlin</em>, your eyes.”</p><p>Harry pauses.</p><p>Draco places a slender hand on Harry’s muscular thigh and massages.</p><p>“Your eyes, Draco. You were fucking <em>terrified</em>. And at the same time, equal parts determined and hopeful. And when I saw that, even with my eyesight all blurry from sleep, I <em>knew</em>. I knew you’d figured it out. You’d realized that we could have it; we could have <em>all of it.</em> You weren’t destined to turn out like your father. You weren’t meant to live the rest of your life atoning. Seven years after the war, and you were finally going to let yourself <em>live</em>.”</p><p>Harry finishes steadily, “And for the longest time, I used my memory from that night we finally kissed whenever I cast my Patronus.”</p><p>Draco’s lips turn up and his voice is a bit hoarse, “I take back what I said. You can use words just fine. <em>Merlin</em>, Harry. ”</p><p>Harry laughs, “I’m not done yet.”</p><p>Draco clears his throat and smiles softly, moving his hand to rest on Harry’s bicep,“Well, by all means, continue then.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry pushes his near-empty plate off to the side and smiles gently, leaning into Draco’s touch, “Now the memory’s changed. It’s not one single memory in particular; it’s a culmination of little things.”</p><p>His bright green eyes lock with Draco’s soft grey ones, “It’s the way you knit sweaters with Molly at Christmas and gently take over when her hands get too shaky to continue.”</p><p>“It’s the way you always insist on being the one to cook the bacon. You know I was barely old enough to read when the Dursleys had me cooking them breakfast. The grease used to pop up and burn. They-they never told me to use a spatula.”</p><p>“It’s the way you are with Ted. So open and honest about your past. Offering him an ear when he’s struggling and I’m too bloody emotional and hotheaded to listen.”</p><p>“It’s the way you play chess with Ron and debate policy with ’Mione.”</p><p>“It’s the way you bring me a piping cup of strong black tea when my blanket of guilt is thick and suffocating and I can’t manage to get out of bed. You lay there beside me and I know you’re <em>there for me.”</em></p><p>“It’s the way you <em>love</em>. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. I’ve never <em>experienced</em> anything quite like it. I never even heard the words ‘I love you’ until I was thrown into our world and heard it from random passerby on the street. Those words never meant anything until Molly said them to me at the Burrow when I was twelve.”</p><p>“And twenty years later, I think I can safely say that love is an <em>action</em> expressed each and every day.”</p><p>“It’s the way you love me, <em>all</em> of me.”</p><p> </p><p>Draco lets out a shaky breath.</p><p>He gently trails his hand down Harry’s bicep and over his exposed forearm.</p><p>Long, nimble fingers softly trace the silvery, ragged, raised scars.</p><p>He moves to Harry’s hand, rubbing circles into the rough, callused palm with his thumb.</p><p>Slowly swoops his thumb and index finger over each one of Harry’s burn-scarred fingers, moving outwards. Firm, steady pressure.</p><p> </p><p>Harry loves in a way that is fierce, hard, and all-encompassing.</p><p>Harry, with his blazing eyes and rough edges and warm laughter and wilddetermination and open way of laying it all out there.</p><p>Draco’s lips turn up as he looks at Harry, whose eyes are crinkling at the corners as he watches Draco.</p><p>“Come here, Harry.”</p><p>Draco stands up, pulling Harry up with him.</p><p>Draco reaches out a slender hand to cup Harry’s jaw. It’s prickly against his palm. Harry’s been starting to grow a beard for the winter.</p><p>Harry moves in closer and wraps a large, rough hand around the back of Draco’s smooth neck.</p><p>Their lips press against one another, gently at first, then firm and insistent.</p><p>Soft breaths fill the silence.</p><p>It washes over them, warm, comforting, and secure.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you all liked it! I plan to keep adding to this “Professor Malfoy” series; I’m enjoying how it’s turning out so far.</p><p> Come say hi to me on <a href="http://floydig.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a> if you want xx</p></blockquote></div></div>
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